A Leaf and Pebble

by Andrew Monroe

  “Great,” Volant muttered. “There’s our fun.”

  Grimly, I nodded. “Well, looks like we’re up first!” I hollered to the Misfits. “Let’s go say hello!”

  We jogged around to the front of the formation, heart hammering in my chest, mouth dry.

  “This is not thieves work,” I said with a chuckle.

  “You can say that again.” Volant had a gruff tone, but a smirk played in the corner of his mouth. “This may be interesting though.”

  A ragged line of Equals were piling in behind the Naturals, but the gap between the two was massive. With that many Natural’s though, it would be bad news to stand near them, friendly or not. The area behind them also gave enough space that we’d not be able to try anything long range on the the main force without the Naturals having an influence on it in the first place. Someone was paying attention to tactics. A scary thought. By the time we could pick out features of the enemy, dozens of the Naturals were waiting for us. Most were already fully in their element.

  I noted a few wind dancers, one fire fury, and the rest were of the earth workers judging by their lack of motion. Interestingly, I saw no water shapers. I placed that thought in the back of my mind, needing to be fully focused on the situation at hand.

  Without even noticing, I’d gathered an impressive amount of Skill. Waves of it pulsed between my fingertips. A steady thrum gathered in my feet as well, waiting to be released. These people wanted to kill me. It was time to show them just how dangerous a Learner could be.

  Suddenly, the air buzzed with uncountable arrows, all flying at us with deadly intent. Volant leaped into the air, a cushion of air spinning him higher than your average man could jump. He gathered a wall of wind while he soared up at the oncoming death.

  Explosive gusts whipped around him as he spun through the rain of projectiles, sending the entire volley whirling in every direction but at us. He landed, a little dizzily, just in front of us. His bow appeared in one hand, an arrow in the other. Volant nocked and let loose with no attempt to aim. He launched over and over again at the crowd of waiting Naturals as the now exposed row of archers stood in dumbfounded awe behind them.

  None of his arrows got even close. The wind dancers on the other side were just as capable at deflecting the wooden shafts, but at this point, we only needed the distraction.

  Nothing but the Equal’s Naturals mattered anymore. I screamed at the wall of men. Fear and anger mixing together in primal release. The focus felt good. I leapt, propelling myself into the air on a burst of Skill that brought me even further than Volant could manage.

  Jaws dropped below me from the Misfits. The enemy Naturals looked up at me with confusion in their eyes. Somehow, my dagger had appeared in my left hand, grip reversed.

  Still, they looked on, wondering what one person planned to do against a force this size. Every injustice I’d felt screamed inside of me. Not even the gods could stop me now.

  A wave of flames lanced out from the woman who’d been juggling balls of fire as we approached. I was moving too fast and too high for her first volley. Her second met a near invisible blast of my Skill, resulting in diverted flames blasting down and to the side.

  Her comrades screamed. Two were engulfed completely. Another three were far enough away that they were only somewhat scorched. The deflection softened my descent enough that I landed only needing a gentle roll.

  My knife sliced through the closest man’s leg as I came up to my feet. The hatchet appearing in my other hand. My throat burned and my eyes watered from the smoke. It made no difference. I spun and slashed. My feet danced, my arms conducted, each limb its own voice of destruction. Unstoppable.

  Fighting is easy when the numbers are against you. They had to worry about hurting each other and coordinating movements. I didn’t. There was no friendly fire for me. These Naturals didn’t know how to fight as a group.

  I obliterated every elemental attack they sent at me, incapacitating two or three Naturals in the process. Barely aiming, my right hand cut controlled lines through the now chaotic crowd. My knife slashed at limbs that got too close. I flung the hatchet as hard as I could. It dropped an earth worker with the shot. A few tried to engage hand to hand. Those had the painful experience of biting steel for their troubles. But the spikes of Skill I was channeling and launching into their ranks was what ended the majority of them.

  Fatigue was rapidly draining my fury, and consequently, my defenses began to falter. Like a hammer blow, wind slammed into my back, sending me flying. Razor sharp vines then followed up the attack. Twin lines of pain ached on my chest where the vines had cut.

  I rolled over, dazed. The dagger was gone, lost in the fall. Another thunderclap of wind flew at me. I growled in challenge, raising my hand in denial of the attack. Wind split against my will, harmlessly blowing apart around me.

  I gathered what scant Skill I had left into my feet, preparing to jump. That Natural had to go down first though. Groping for a moment, I found the throwing knives. No hesitation. I threw three in rapid succession. Each one sent spinning at the man who had hammered me to the ground.

  Two struck home, most likely non lethal but definitely debilitating. A few steps and I was again jumping into the air, back the way I came. Turning in midair, a single finger picked out the man with a vine whip. I sent a splinter of Skill spearing towards him. His whip was in motion, and it wasn’t until my shot sliced through the vine that realization dawned in his eyes. By then, it was too late. The look of surprise froze on his face as he died.

  Misfits let loose as soon as my feet cleared their line of fire. Jepp’s arrow flew hard and straight, embedding itself in an Equal. It looked like it was the entirety of his will though, as he collapsed to his knees immediately after.

  Alisandra was at her fury of punches, boxing a group of men with sledgehammer force until they were all lying on the ground moaning.

  One-armed Xen chopped horizontally before collapsing in a trembling mass. His attack cut clean through a group of seven earth workers who had just been about to do something nasty.

  Lori and Udan did no lasting damage, though they were doing an admirable job protecting our group from the concentrated attacks of the remaining Naturals.

  Volant stepped forward. His movements beautiful. Perfectly executed. Feet danced back and forth in a little wind dancer concerto, continuously building momentum. His arms circled round and round, never stopping, compressing into tighter circles as if he was moving through a wall of water. All at once his hands slammed together like a giant clap, fully extended. A hurricane’s worth of wind swept the small band of Naturals high into the air. Head over heel they tumbled for what seemed an eternity before crashing back to the ground. None tried to get back up.

  Behind us, the Guard had stopped. Before us, the Equal infantry was charging. They knew we wouldn’t have much of anything left. Learners were notorious for their exhaustion after any kind of display, especially something as grand as we’d just pulled off. We may have wiped out their front line of Naturals, but blood would be paid in blood it seemed.

  I could barely stand myself, one arm clutched against Volant to keep my balance. The other held a throwing knife. Tremors ran down me, overexertion taking its toll. Shouts from the oncoming Equals echoed across the grass.

  Our own reinforcements made faint noises behind me, a small group desperately trying to catch up to us. We’d pulled too far ahead of the main force to hear anything distinct. Volant and I tried to answer in kind, but our two voices barely cut into the oncoming hoard of noise.

  And then all of the Equals began to falter, eyes cast upward first in pairs, then in dozens, until the whole group was staring at the sky.

  I looked up too.

  Directly above us higher than anything man made should ever be, a Wydvis airship hovered. Black specks fell from it. These quickly resolved into the shapes of falling crewmen, armed to the teeth. Twenty or so people landed around us, intentionally or not, in incredibly spectacul
ar fashion. Each sailor had a fallpack, but none were actually wearing them. Instead, they were attached to impossibly long ropes. The packs were released back to the sky. An eerie quiet blanketed the field, each side trying to fathom what just happened. By the time a decision had been reached by the Equals, another squad of sailors had landed, including Captain Andreska herself.

  “Figured you’d be here,” she said. Matched rapiers hung at her belt. She wore a gentleman’s fencing outfit, strapped to her eyeballs in weapons. Neither she, nor her crew wore any armor, instead wearing panache as if it were chainmail.

  Every man and woman around us bore a blade in each hand, or in a few cases, enormous double handed axes after the Wydvis fashion. They all wore similar clothing to the captain as well. Blue bandannas across the brows, tied behind the head. In the center of each was a small, black lightning bolt. Each was obviously homemade.

  Funnily enough, my mind registered this first. “If we get out of this alive, I must have one of those,” I told Volant.

  Ignoring me, he waved at his mother. “It’s a long story,” he said back to her. “Let’s worry about them first.”

  Sure enough, he was right. The Equals no longer charged madly, but were definitely scooting forward at a deceptively quick pace. Fire burned in some of their eyes, mainly those at the front. Left hand of god, zealots.

  Behind the zealots, glory hunters and those passionate about violence who cared to followed. In the back, stony eyed men watched, calculating. Our contingent was joined by black clad Elites, some of Dioden’s personal guard, along with Qaewin and Slandash.

  Volant hugged Qaewin tightly, before stepping back and nocking a new arrow to his bow.

  There were cheers as Dioden’s Elites were joined by additional Guard, and the whole contingent moved past our formation. Men and women shouted encouragement to the Misfits as they flowed around us to engage the Equals.

  I dropped to a knee, manic laughter escaping me briefly at the relief. A boot kicked me in the side, but it wasn’t Volant’s.

  “Get. Up. Now.” The boot wearer growled.

  I stumbled back up, limbs still trembling from the exertion of earlier. Andreska stood, mouth tightly pursed, gleaming blades glinting against the dying light.

  “More men will soon be dying. Do you want their mothers to know you lay on the ground resting while their blood was spilled? Their wives to know you left them to die when you could have helped?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  My face grew hot at this. “I can’t do anything else!” I growled. “My Skill is all but gone. I can barely stand.”

  She took a few steps closer, blades cutting parallel lines in her wake. “There is never a time to give up. You have no choice in the matter. We continue. You only stop moving when you’re dead. Anything less, and you’ve wasted the gift of life.”

  Volant stepped forward now, hand held out to keep me steady. “She’s right. We’re in this. Might as well give it all we can.”

  Around us, Andreska’s crew had tightened in, forming a wall of flesh. They all stood watching the Equals, who were now almost solely focused on the black clad Elites that had planted themselves between us and them. The Misfits huddled together, Xen and his Soft Stepper girlfriend the only two standing from our original squad.

  Drained from exertion, the other Learners sat or lay, drawing support on each other’s presence. There had definitely been no holding back and it made me proud.

  “On the plus side,” I pointed out, “it looks like they are keeping the rest of those pesky Naturals in reserve.”

  Qaewin chuckled, though her father’s usual boisterous cheer was nowhere to be seen as Slandash stood deadly still at the front of our formation.

  With conspicuous haste, a number of very lightly armed and even more lightly armored knots of Equals were slipping out from the growing ranks of people. Overall, their numbers were still swelling, but it looked like the less committed of their forces had taken poorly to us fighting back so aggressively and were trying to leave the fight.

  “That’s never going to work,” Andreska said with a gesture of her rapier towards the slow-moving formation of Dioden’s spear tip strategy. “Gentleman, let’s go rescue those hapless Elites.”

  A chorus of cheers greeted this. None from the Misfits though, who were practically asleep.

  “Jow. You’re on babysitting duty. Make sure they get back to the camp when mobile again.” Andreska turned, snapping a finger at a burly man who had a colorful flag draped like a cape around him. “Signal the boat back to that sorry excuse for a camp as well. And have the lift waiting in case a hasty retreat is needed.”

  A curt acknowledgment from the flag-clad man, and he was off, said flag flapping in his wake. One final glare at Volant, and Andreska turned towards the line. Inexplicably, the two sides had not yet met in earnest. A mere thirty paces or so separating them.

  Steel on steel clanged as she struck her blades together. A signal the crew was waiting for. There was another cheer and they were pelting towards the Equals. Not nearly as energetically, Volant and I tried to keep up.

  Dioden’s formation had more or less ground to a halt. Most of the heads were turned watching the Wydvis crew in a mixture of confusion and awe. The Equals shared a similar expression. A good few looked like they had just received a blunt explanation on their mortality, and were reconsidering lives as militant footmen.

  Anger had left me for the time being. I was tired. Thirsty. A little euphoric, probably due to the adrenaline. I could still feel the seed of fury from before, but not enough to do anything with. The world took a breath and held it. And then a final, unanimous cry let forth between Andreska’s crew as it passed the scrimmaging and nearly surrounded

  Elites, crashing into the entire line of waiting soldiers. It was a perfect moment before something far less so.

  All out combat raged by the time Volant and I made it to the shattered line. Andreska’s people landed the first of many blows it seemed, their little band being the deepest into the Equal’s mob.

  The spear tip formation failed almost instantly, devolving into what seemed like the world’s biggest, nastiest brawl. I couldn’t do much more than think about drawing Skill forth, but physically, adrenaline was keeping me as steady as I could hope. It was loud. A detached part of my mind realized this while I ducked behind Volant as we tried to cut our way through to his mother’s pocket of fighters. It seemed to be both the safest option and the most effective. I picked up a small sword on the way, though I’d have traded it in a heartbeat for a solid hatchet.

  Constant noise surrounded us. Anyone just listening would probably be confused on whether this was a violent battle or just a pile of mating cats. It was scarier than anything I’d ever seen. I screamed my heart out, contributing to the cacophony.

  My sword got knocked away by a woman wielding a weird spear with a long wavy bladed tip. She, in turn, was disarmed by a fallen comrade who she tripped on. Consequently falling on short sword that was sticking up at an awkward angle, skewering the poor woman without me having done anything more than stand there.

  Volant was in his element, saving my life time after time while we tried to catch up to his mother’s crew who had far better cardio than we did. He was a blur of steel and wind.

  In comparison, I was a sluggish child merely holding back those who’d have gotten him from behind until he could give the proper attention needed. Volant was pure force.

  I picked up every fallen blade I could find. Each one I threw at whichever Equal was closest, scoring hits with nearly every shot. For a tense moment, I was completely out of weapons and couldn’t find anything. But like an answered prayer, an axe cut the air above my head, knocked out of some enemy’s hand. Volant’s rapier flicked in besides me, a soft moan behind indicating he had found a target.

  Beside me, the previous owner of the axe fell to the ground. I nodded my thanks to him, picked up the weapon, and continued.

  We were both tiring, physical
exertion forcing us to pause and catch our breaths. In front of us, Andreska and her people had reached the back edge of the Equals, and seemed to be turning back to move through them again. More interestingly, I could see the Soft Steppers on the fringe of the conflict. Slithers snaked in between the felines and their riders, both sides ignorant of the larger conflict happening nearby. No doubt about it, the Soft Steppers were coming out on top. It looked like a constant stream of arrows were being buried into the lizard riders, who’d not quite figured out open combat.

  We slipped around combatants until finding ourselves suddenly in the whirlwind of death the ship’s crew had become. It was less tiring than leading the charge, but far more chaotic.

  Exchanges were coming quickly but just as quickly, finishing. The group fought in a circle, each person with a second behind them. Instead of just moving forward, the entire group was leapfrogging and constantly spinning clockwise. The circle would close and shift, gaining an exceptional amount of ground with a new rank of fresh combatants.

  In the middle of the circle, the Wydvis injured moved or were supported by the slightly less injured. Qaewin was doing her best to help while throwing the occasional knife out into the crowd of Equals that penned us in. It was simply impressive, and a part me idly wondered how Andreska had come by the technique and had been able to train her people to perform so admirably.

  Smoke tickled my nose. That same little part in my mind which seemed to be maintaining its own dialogue took note of this and attempted to direct my focus on the new development. The rest of my mind responded far slower.

  Fire, I realized. I spun around wildly, leaving Volant to jump forward to maintain the circle. Smoke was billowing across the battlefield, thick and black. Some idiot fire fury, probably. Natural’s, especially the fire types, tended to get overzealous. The general roar of battle was giving way to cries of panic. I watched the smoke until I could see flames creeping in our direction.